


Point Of Information

by hajiimee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I can't believe I wrote a fic inspired by fucking debating, Kagehina Exchange 2015, M/M, my gift for #147, sorry its so late but its like 7000 words so i hope that makes up for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 12:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5496731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hajiimee/pseuds/hajiimee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Aren’t you meant to argue? I mean, it is a debate club, after all.”</p>
<p>“You’re not meant to argue with your own team, Noya.” In response, Noya made a small ‘oh’, lips forming the word but not verbalising it. He finished hanging the baby, before sitting on the top of the stepladder and looking at his friend as the boy continued to talk. “I mean, it was fine when we were on opposing sides, because yeah, we went a bit overboard, but at least it didn’t completely halt the debate, you know? Now, we just turn on each other, and the other week, Kei and Tadashi actually left. They left, Noya.”</p>
<p>“Wow, first world problems sure are awful.” </p>
<p>(My gift for no. 147 of the 2015 Kagehina exchange! This is a monster of a fic and it's really late I'm so sorry but I hope you enjoy!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Point Of Information

**Author's Note:**

> Hello no.147! I have been working nonstop on this, so I really hope you enjoy it. I'm sorry it's about something so fucking British, but I was struggling for ideas and welp, this one worked so I rolled with it. I'm really pleased with this myself, so I can only hope you are too! I would love for you to reveal yourself and message me your thoughts personally, but there's no pressure. Merry Christmas!
> 
> Also, some clarification before we begin:
> 
> 1\. Points of Information (or POIs) are a feature of Parliamentary debate, allowing an opposing team member to offer a brief point during the current speech.  
> 2\. In some Sixth Form colleges (AKA mine) students refer to their teachers by their first name instead of Miss. X, Mrs. X, Mr. X, or just Mr./Miss/Mrs.  
> 3\. Converting them from the Japanese educational system to the English one means that Hinata is the year above Kageyama, and that Hinata, Noya, and Tanaka are in the same year.  
> 4\. The reason Noya goes by Noya and not Yuu is because that would be a confusing as fuck name to have in an English speaking country so he probably favours Noya for ease.  
> 5\. Sixth Form is ages 16-18 (two years) – Kageyama is Lower Sixth (First Year), so he’s 16-17, whilst Hinata is Upper Sixth (Second Year), so he’s 17-18.  
> 6\. A semi-detached house is a house that is joined to one other house.  
> 7\. Sainsbury’s is an English supermarket chain.  
> 8\. Costa is short for Costa Coffee, and is Starbuck’s café rival over here along with Café Nero.  
> 9\. 'Break up' is used for getting out of school for holidays.

"Can I raise a Point of Information against my own team?"  
  
The question left Tobio's mouth veiled in nothing but innocence, his hand raised high and poised with the grace of a ballerina, fingers touching and thumb crossed over his palm. On the surface, he painted the very picture of a Primary School child, still untainted by adolescence, holding onto his manners with a steadfast grip, face caught in that look of lack of understanding and curiosity. His intent, however, matched that of a Year 8 boy who takes the empty seat beside you and begins to taunt and jibe, regardless of your seniority, and it had Shouyou whirling round in his seat. The movement was nothing but a blur of orange, body swivelling so that he was facing his 'teammate', eyes narrowed in a pointed glare. The boys' body was angled oddly, one arm thrown over the back of his chair whilst his chin was just slightly off from being level with his shoulder, torso twisted so he both changed position but didn't, butt staying firmly put.  
  
"Was there something _wrong_ with what I just said?" The words were spat, and if possible his eyes narrowed even further, becoming mere slits on his face, brown of his irises lost to the contempt. Tobio didn't even flinch, his own calm gaze merely flickering down to meet Shouyou's glare as his hand slowly lowered itself, resting on the scratched desk instead. The only shift on his face was the raise of one eyebrow. It arched, just slightly, as a nonverbal accusation that not only was _something_ wrong with what Shouyou had just said, but rather _everything_ was wrong.  
  
"You're practically _letting_ them win." Shouyou's body tensed at the words, jaw tightening and teeth slowly grinding over one another. He tightened his grip on the back of his cheap, plastic school seat, a part of him, nestled in the deep recesses of his mind, thankful to find no chewing gum hidden under the small arch. "We have the _easier_ side and yet you're completely destroying our advantage. As always. Why are you here again?"  
  
"And what exactly, oh so mighty Mr. Tobio Kageyama, have I said that _lets_ them win? Please, share with the class. I'm sure we're all _dying_ to know." Shouyou spoke slowly and condescendingly, putting emphasis on more than one word in a way of subtly mocking Tobio's intelligence. Tobio's eye twitched, straight-line lips twitching into the starting of a frown.  
  
"I _wish_ I was dying." Kei muttered from his position on the other side of the classroom. He put his pen down and sighed, stretching in his seat before relaxing, posture slackening as his bored gaze fell upon his opposition.  
  
"Here we go again." Tadashi muttered from his right, letting his head fall so that his cheek rested against the table. "I feel like this is a new record. We didn't even get past Opening Government." Kei snorted.  
  
"Stupidity knows no bounds."  
  
“Are you accepting my point of information, then?” Tobio asked.  
  
“No, he’s not.” It was their teacher who spoke this time, raking his fingers through his hair and adjusting his glasses. He looked more worn after twenty minutes of a club activity than he had after a full day of lessons. “Tobio, you can’t raise POI’s against your own team.”  
  
“I’m accepting your point of information.” Shouyou spoke as if their teacher hadn’t, gaze locked with Tobio’s, ignoring the world around them.  
  
“You said that gun control should be stricter in the US because they encourage violence, which goes against a lot of religious beliefs. You’re saying that those people have a right to have their religion respected, but _what_ religion? If religion and the law coincide, you would need to choose one religion to favour, as details vary from religion to religion. Would that be Christianity? Then what about all other religions? Islam? Sikhism? Judaism? How can you prioritise the views of one religion over another?”  
  
“Well, as far as I know, all of those religions favour peace over war. So my point still stands. You don’t need to side with one religion, but rather their shared view on non-violent tactics.” Shouyou’s counter was immediate, and Tobio actually frowned this time, eyebrows furrowing and lips completing their downturn. It took only a few seconds for him to open his mouth again, and Tadashi groaned at the words that left his fellow club members mouth.  
  
“Point of information.”  
  
Shouyou paused.  
  
“Accepted.”  
  
“Ittetsu can I leave?” It was Kei that spoke this time, hand raised and feet up on the desk, gaze directed towards their teacher.  
  
“No you cannot.” Ittetsu replied, and Kei let his hand flop to his side, head tilting backwards as he let out a sigh, body deflating in a manner that screamed boredom. “Shouyou, Tobio, you’re on the _same_ team, you can’t debate with each other–”  
  
“Everyone interprets religion differently, though. What about people who feel as if their religion encourages them to protect their own with any methods necessary? What about Christians who believe that the Old Testament view of ‘An Eye for an Eye’ is a truer version of their religion than the New Testament view of ‘Turn the other cheek’? If you are having the law and religion intersect, then _all_ interpretations would need to be catered to, else it’s not all inclusive.”  
  
Ittetsu closed his eyes, letting his head thunk back against the whiteboard on which their debate topic was written. ‘This House Believes’ was written in bold in the middle, with a series of arrows jutting out, each with a different issue at the end. ‘Gun control laws should be enforced in all first world countries’ was circled three times, more arrows directed downwards. The right arrow was captioned with ‘Government’, Tobio and Shouyou’s names scrawled beneath, whilst the left arrow had the subtitle of ‘Opposition’. Beneath the left, Kei and Tadashi’s names were written in the same messy scribble. There was silence for a moment, and Kei cracked open one eye, watching as Shouyou ground his teeth together. The elder boys’ fingers were drumming against the desk, eyes not moving a centimetre from Tobio’s. Then, his mouth opened, and Kei stood up. His chair made a thud as it hit against the wall, and he grabbed his bag, heading towards the classroom door.  
  
“Right. That’s it. I’m going. Call me when they’ve fucked it out.”  
  
Tadashi mimicked Kei’s exit within seconds, grabbing his bag and coat and throwing an apologetic smile towards Ittetsu. He opened his mouth to call out a goodbye to Shouyou and Tobio, but thought better of it when he saw their mouths moving a mile a minute. They wouldn’t have heard him anyway. The door clicked closed behind him as he left, his footsteps echoing down the hallway, just a tad louder than Kei’s fading presence. Ittetsu sighed, glancing at the clock on the back wall before letting himself sink down into his chair, the back tilting back a bit as he let his body deflate. The days when he was a happy go-lucky teacher with the enthusiasm of a small child working with paints seemed long gone – nothing but a distant memory fading in his peripheral.  
  
Debating shouldn’t be so exhausting.  
  
Actually, debating _wasn’t_ exhausting. That was wrong. It was those two that were exhausting. Ittetsu pushed his glasses up and rubbed at his eyes, before fixing the position of his specs on his face. He looked back over to the still debating duo. He had to at least give them credit, they were still following the British Parliamentary Debating format, requesting POI’s and not talking over one another, letting the other finish their point. The only faults Ittetsu could find was that they were accepting constant POI’s – two was the maximum per turn if you wanted to retain your strength – and, well, they were raising POI’s against their _own team_.  
  
Also, they had most definitely used up all three minutes of unprotected time. In fact, they’d used up all five minutes of Opening Government altogether, hitting the eight minute mark at this point. Again, Ittetsu glanced at the clock, letting his eyes sweep over the otherwise empty classroom, before finally settling on the dark sky through the window, the trees merely silhouettes. His mind drifted to all the marking he could be doing, as well as all the Key Assessment 2 comments he needed to type up. He looked to the clock a third time, before letting his gaze slip back to Shouyou and Tobio.  
  
Forty minutes left.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
“Aren’t you _meant_ to argue? I mean, it is a debate club, after all.”  
  
Shouyou raised his hand to flip Noya off, but otherwise didn’t move, his head buried in one arm. Noya just scoffed in response, jumping down from the stepladder to grab another plastic baby. It was covered in a tan stocking, splotches of dye covering the surface. It was disturbing, as if someone was suffocating it in some grim Criminal Minds-like situation. He cut some wire from the roll, and began to tie it around the baby’s wrist. Shouyou raised his head, raising an eyebrow at his friend’s work, before letting his eyes flick up to Noya himself.  
  
“That’s really disturbing.” He commented, and again, Noya scoffed. “How is that even Textiles? Or Fashion? Its babies hanging from a ceiling. What’s your theme again?”  
  
“Second Skin.” Noya answered, climbing back up onto the stepladder and beginning to hang the children’s toy, its limbs dangling in a very macabre fashion. “But back to what you were saying, about the arguing thing. I don’t really get what the problem is?”  
  
Shouyou groaned, head dropping once again.  
  
“You’re not meant to argue with your own _team_ , Noya.” In response, Noya made a small ‘oh’, lips forming the word but not verbalising it. He finished hanging the baby, before sitting on the top of the stepladder and looking at his friend as the boy continued to talk. “I mean, it was fine when we were on opposing sides, because yeah, we went a bit overboard, but at least it didn’t completely halt the debate, you know? Now, we just turn on each other, and the other week, Kei and Tadashi actually _left_. They _left_ , Noya.”  
  
“Wow, first world problems sure are awful.” His tone of voice was mocking, and Shouyou laughed, turning his head to rest his cheek on the table, temple bracing itself on the bend of his elbow.  
  
“Tell me about it.” He countered, before blowing a strand of hair from his face. “But seriously, this guy is driving me insane. He just frustrates me so much, and there’s no possible way we can work together. Not at all. We’ll completely flop the competition. Probably get disqualified.”  
  
“Then switch teams.”  
  
“I’ve tried. Ittetsu thinks if we just ‘work things out’ then we’ll be invincible.”  
  
“Well, have you tried actually working things out then? Like, talking to him outside of that one hour once a week? Getting to know him? Practicing with him?”  
Shouyou paused. Noya raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Wow.”  
  
“ _Oh_.”  
  
“It didn’t even cross your mind?”  
  
“Not once.”  
  
“ _Wow_.” Noya laughed, climbing down from the stepladder, picking it up when he was safely on his feet and carrying it over to a corner so that it was out of the way. “How? I mean, just, _how_? I would have thought it was obvious.” This time, it was Noya who paused. “Even for you.”  
  
Shouyou swivelled in his seat, finally lifting his head up from the table indefinitely. He had a look on his face that was a cross between indignant and embarrassed.  
“Anger is a powerful emotion, okay? It throws common sense out the window. It consumes you. You notice nothing else but rage and murderous intent.”  
  
“Poetic.”  
  
Shouyou made a face that was the perfect picture of a sarcastic ‘funny’, before he sighed, leaning back in his chair. His arms were limp by his sides, dangling, and fingers just a few centimetres shy from brushing the floor. Closed his eyes, tilting his head back.  
  
“Why is life so stressful?”  
  
“You’re so dramatic.” Noya began to pack his stuff away. “Just ask him to go somewhere and brush up on some debate-y things. Like, politics and shit. Law? I don’t know. Small steps, Shouyou, small steps.”  
  
Shouyou blinked.  
  
“That’s actually not a bad idea.” He said. “Wow, you’re actually pretty useful Noya.”  
  
Noya laughed and winked, struggling to carry all his supplies as he walked past Shouyou, calling out through the room as he walked away, heading to the technicians room to return the unused materials and collect his I.D.  
  
“That’s what Senpai’s are for.”  
  
“Way to ruin it, Weeb.”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
“Why are you here?”  
  
Someone bumped Kei’s shoulder as they pushed past him and out of the classroom, but he paid them no mind, instead levelling a displeased look at the boy blocking his path, and, subsequently, blocking part of the doorway. Kei’s eyes held a bored look, and his lips had a very subtle downward quirk. His gait was tilted, the side without his bag shifted downwards.  
  
“Be on my team for the competition.” Tobio’s expression was the complete opposite of Kei’s. It was set in a state so serious that it rivalled that of a dystopic novel’s protagonist. His eyes were sharp, and his lips were straight, posture rigid and tense as if he were challenging the highest of authority. Kei raised an eyebrow.  
  
“The debating competition?”  
  
Tobio nodded.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“No.”  
  
Kei side-stepped the slightly shorter teen, heading down the hallway. Unsurprisingly, he could hear footsteps follow him almost immediately. Tobio didn’t join his side, staying a few paces behind, but he continued to talk, unrelenting in his pursuit. Just like when they were in secondary school. Kei rolled his eyes, turning a corner – some people never changed.  
  
“You’re a good debater. Not great, but good. If you had a bit more passion, you’d be better than good, but I don’t want to ask for the impossible. Just – if we work together, we could have a chance at winning this competition. We could do it.”  
  
“Yeah, we could.” Kei replied. “But we’re not going to.”  
  
Tobio’s pace faltered for a second.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Kei turned reached the top of the stairs, taking one step down, before turning around to face Tobio, putting them on near perfect eye-level.  
  
“Because I don’t want to.”  
  
Tobio frowned, eyebrows knitting together. Kei could practically see the cogs moving in his mind, their un-oiled ridges grinding together as the engine struggled to get the unused machinery to work. If he focused, he could smell the smoke as the fuel burnt itself up, and the heat began to gnaw at the metal. He had to fight down a smirk, the expression on Tobio’s face priceless – screwed up and frustrated and as he struggled to find something new to say, or struggled to comprehend that no, not everyone was as invested in debating as he was. Though, Kei doubted whether it was really debating Tobio was invested in, or Shouyou’s reaction. After all, he had never been so passionate about the arguments when he had been working on the same team as Kei right at the beginning. It was only when he’d been rebutted by Shouyou that something changed. Like a spark over gas, igniting a vivid blue flame.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Kei wasn’t even shocked by Tobio’s response, having expected something as short and simple as that after all the times he had heard the same kind of thing leave his mouth in too many English lessons to count. ‘This symbolises X’ followed by ‘Why?’  
  
Which was then followed by an explanation, followed by another ‘Why?’ – Tobio was the type of person who needed every single little detail justified for it to make sense to him, which was probably why he was a good debater. He could pinpoint the smallest of flaws in his opponent’s argument and question them to the point that it was almost excessive.  
  
“Because,” Kei replied, answer immediate after five years of life with Tobio Kageyama. “I prefer working with Tadashi. Plus, I don’t like you. That shouldn’t a plus, on reflection, considering it’s an extremely large part of the reason as to why I don’t want to work with you. Besides,” He adjusted the strap of his backpack, levelling Tobio with a blunt look.  
  
“Ittetsu wants you to work with Shouyou. Hasn’t he already said you two are a team for the competition? He may be a bit of a pushover, but he’s really stubborn when it comes to stuff like this.”  
  
Kei really wanted a picture of Tobio’s face at that moment.  
  
“I don’t want to work with Shouyou.”  
  
“Well unfortunately, your Majesty, there is nothing I can do to help you. Now can I go to Chemistry without you at my heel or am I going to need to ask my teacher if you can sit in the corner with a bowl of water?” Tobio didn’t answer for a moment, but when he did, it wasn’t an answer to Kei’s sarcastic question, and the blond almost groaned, slumping against the wall and giving Tobio a look that screamed ‘Really?’  
  
“I don’t know _how_ to work with him.”  
  
“Do I look like I’m educated in helping people with their personal issues?”  
  
“He’s just so _frustrating_ , and I get angry before I can really think. It’s like I _want_ to get angry. It’s exciting, debating with him. We’re just so focused on the topic and it’s really… Cool?”  
  
_More like you’re focused on each other_ , Kei didn’t say the words out loud, but he thought them with annoyance. Annoyance at just how oblivious one person could be. Tobio didn’t care about half the topics that they discussed in club, with the very rare occasion. He just cared about _Shouyou_.  
  
“Which is why Ittetsu would think you’d be a good team. If you switch that passion from working against each other to working with each other, then you’ll be, well, invincible, as sickening as that notion is.” Kei didn’t understand how Tobio got him to stay and talk, but it was a trap he fell into every time, and he’d stopped questioning it years ago.  
  
“I think he hates me.”  
  
“You can’t possibly know that. You only see him once a week. You barely know him.”  
  
Tobio paused.  
  
“So he doesn’t hate me?”  
  
Kei ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
“Get to know him and find out.”  
  
Another pause.  
  
“How?”  
  
Kei turned on his heel and began to walk down the stairs, shouting his answer out without looking back at Tobio.  
  
“Spend time with him. And not _me_.”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
When Lower Sixth had their lunch break, Shouyou had a free period. It was perfect, really – forty five minutes of ‘working things out’. It wouldn’t be enough time, Shouyou knew that, but it would be a start. A little nudge in the right direction, and a step closer to a functioning team that could possibly, maybe win the national debating competition that was just months away. Right around the corner, and creeping closer, closer, closer.  
  
Students milled in and out of the college, the shitty automatic doors struggling to keep up with their numbers. Shouyou watched them go as he tapped his bag, holding it in his lap. Majority of the students present were wearing blue lanyards, the sign that they were first years, a stark comparison to Shouyou’s grey. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack – a first year among first years. Ten minutes went by – only thirty-five left. Shouyou let out a slow breath, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, his crown resting against the glass.  
  
When he opened his eyes again, there were a pair staring back.  
  
Shouyou let out a yelp, scrambling to sit up straight whilst Tobio straightened himself back to his normal height. He watched Shouyou with what appeared to be a calm gaze, but there was a stiffness to his posture that made him look nervous about something, or at least a tad uncomfortable. Shouyou whirled round, eyebrows furrowed.  
  
“Thanks for the heart attack, asshole.”  
  
“Sorry.” Tobio didn’t sound sorry at all, and Shouyou’s frown deepened, but he let it go. Work things out. They needed to work things out. Taking a deep breath, he evened out his expression before standing. He didn’t smile. It was too early for that. But he removed the scowl, letting his face ease into a neutral state.  
  
“It’s fine. Just, warn a guy next time, alright?” Tobio gave a curt not, and Shouyou almost found himself mimicking the action, but he tensed his shoulders last minute. There was a breath of awkward silence. Tobio shifted, glancing away, and Shouyou clenched and unclenched his fingers around the strap of his bag. At the same time, they opened their mouths.  
  
“Are you free?”  
  
“You busy right now?”  
  
They both blinked, Tobio looking down at Shouyou in surprise, and Shouyou looking up at Tobio with a near identical expression. Shouyou swallowed, before letting out a somewhat tight laugh, standing up and swinging his bag over his shoulder, stuffing his free hand into the pocket of his jeans.  
  
“Well,” He started. “That makes things easier, hey? I was gonna ask if you wanted to, like, practice. Debating. We could look at past competition topics and have a go at writing arguments for them in the time we would have in the real thing. Maybe do some background research to? Though we may not have time for all that–”  
  
“I’m finished for the day.” Tobio cut in, words rushed. His eyes then widened, and he straightened his posture, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I mean that, yeah, we’ll have time to do all that. Maybe. How long are you free for?”  
  
“Um,” Shouyou scrambled for his I.D, flipping it over and running his eyes over his mini laminated timetable. “I’ve got two hours until my next lesson.” Again, Tobio nodded as a response, and this time, Shouyou nodded back. He jerked his head towards the doors. “Should we go then? We could got to Starbucks or Costa or something. There’s one of each on the high-street.”  
  
“Costa?” Shouyou was honestly surprised by the questioning tone to Tobio’s voice, having expected him to just state where they were going, that blunt nature the only thing the older boy really associated with the brunet. In club, Tobio’s ‘questions’ often came across condescending, or more often or not, more like statements. Shouyou’s shock must have shown on his face, because again, Tobio fidgeted, glancing away. “I like their Strawberry Lemonade.”  
Shouyou’s lips twitched, threatening to curve into a smile.  
  
“Okay then.” He said. “Costa it is.”  
  
Shouyou moved first, Tobio following almost immediately, and soon they were off college campus and out onto the streets. They walked mostly in silence, their footsteps slightly out of sync. Shouyou wanted to say something, but his mind was coming up blank. With the decision of where to go out of the way, he was at a loss of conversation topics, and he became fidgety, silence not his forte. Multiple times he opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and he closed it again. He shifted his weight from his left side to his right, and then back again. He adjusted his bag. He put his hands in his pockets, and then pulled them out again.  
  
“What are you studying?” It was the lamest conversation starter in the world, and Shouyou knew it would last less than five seconds, but he needed _something_ , and the only thing that was even niggling in his mind was all those ice-breakers he’d done back in his first year. Tobio glanced at him – a sideward look – before he looked back to the front, and for a moment Shouyou was worried he wouldn’t answer.  
  
“Creative Writing, Comms, and English Lit.” Shouyou relaxed, giving a small, hesitant smile.  
  
“I done Creative Writing in my AS year.” He replied. “And Comms? What’s that?”  
  
“Communication Studies.”  
  
Shouyou whistled.  
  
“Well, if you’re this bad at communicating _after_ studying it for a term, I’d hate to think what you were like beforehand.”  
  
And just like that, the tension was broken. Tobio came to life in an instant, looking a mix between angered and flustered. He spluttered for a moment, before finally managing to force out a coherent question.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“It means you’re really awful at talking to people, Tobio.” Shouyou replied, watching as Tobio’s face flushed with embarrassment, face turning a nice red hue. He then huffed, turning away and stuffing his hands into his pockets indignantly.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shouyou mimicked, and Tobio shot him a glare, making Shouyou laugh at the entertaining contrast between harsh look and the blush. He skipped a few steps ahead, just about dodging Tobio’s outstretched hand, a move Shouyou had seen many a time in their club after things got a bit too heated. “You’ll need to try harder than that.” He teased, gaining distance. Tobio followed, running after him up the road, both of them dodging other students as they went.  
  
Shouyou reached Costa just a few seconds before Tobio, and his cheeks were flushed with exertion, chest heaving, telling him that he really needed to get out for a run more often. He watched the taller boy slow, before he pressed his hands to his thighs, taking large gulps of air for a moment before lifting his head to glare at Shouyou.  
  
“Are you five?” He snapped.  
  
“I’m older than you, asshole.”  
  
“Try looking it.”  
  
Shouyou stuck his tongue out, before heading inside, not holding the door open for his partner, leaving it to just about hit Tobio in the face. Luckily, the boys’ reflexes were good, and he reached his hand out, catching it before it closed completely and saving himself some glass to the nose. Shouyou watched him from the tail end of the queue, small smirk on his face. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t thought of insults earlier. That was how they worked after all, wasn’t it? That was how they were able to talk nonstop to one another with no awkward silences during club – it was with subtle jibes at each other’s intelligence, or sometimes overt ones. Why should it be any different anywhere else?  
  
Answer: It shouldn’t.  
  
Shouyou ordered a hot chocolate, preferring hot drinks to cold ones, especially during winter. Usually, he preferred Starbucks altogether, being a sucker for their holiday menus. But Costa would do for one day. He paid and waited for his order to come through, watching as Tobio ordered his own drink, grimacing when the pink iced drink arrived.  
  
“How can you drink an _iced_ drink in winter?” He asked, and Tobio glanced down as he sucked a large mouthful through the straw, making Shouyou’s teeth tingle just to watch.  
  
“Because it tastes good.” Was the blunt reply he received, and Shouyou just let his gaze flicker back down to the crushed pink ice in distaste. Tobio raised an eyebrow, removing his mouth from the straw. “Does my drink choice really bother you that much?” He asked.  
  
“Yes. Yes it does.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because it’s weird. You’re weird.”  
  
Tobio shrugged, and moved to a table, and Shouyou frowned but joined him, slipping into a chair. Once again, they slipped into silence, and Shouyou felt as if the two steps forward that they’d taken had been replaced by thirty feet. Shouyou added two sugars to his hot chocolate, and then took a gulp, tapping his fingers against the side of his cup.  
  
“Do you hate me?”  
  
Shouyou’s tapping stopped immediately, and he looked at Tobio with wide eyes. For once, the taller male was meeting his gaze without a glare on his face.  
  
“You think I hate you?” Tobio looked away and shrugged.  
  
“I don’t think you like me.” He replied, and Shouyou just looked at him, not saying anything for a moment. Then, he laughed.  
  
“I don’t think I like you either.” He replied, and Tobio tensed. “I but I don’t think I hate you.”  
  
There was silence for a moment, and then Tobio spoke again, his words hesitant, as if he was still unsure whether or not he should say them.  
  
“When are you free tomorrow?”  
  
Shouyou smiled.  
  
“I’ll check.”  
  
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“Do you want to come round mine on when we finish today?”  
  
If there was one thing that Shouyou had learnt about Tobio Kageyama in the few weeks that’d passed since their trip to Costa, it was that he was very surprising. On the surface, he came across as predictable, his (very few, as Kei would say,) thoughts displayed clearly across his face, and his actions limited to just a few that he would pick and choose from. But that wasn’t the case. He was just too awkward to broach anything when he didn’t know you. There were moments, though, when he would just say something out of the blue – something new, something spontaneous to the recipient, but that he had obviously spent a lot of time thinking about. In a way, it was rather cute. Shouyou blinked, pulling his pen from his mouth.  
  
“Round yours?” He echoed, and Tobio shifted, shrugging.  
  
“Well, yeah, we break up at twelve-forty-five, both upper sixth and lower sixth, and when we come back we only have a couple of weeks until the competition, so I thought we should practice whilst we’re off. Obviously not on Christmas, but before and after.” A pause. “Unless you don’t want to. They’re your holidays. I don’t care.”  
  
He obviously did care, though, and Shouyou let the corners of his mouth curl.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I said okay. Sure. I’ll come round yours when we finish.” Tobio blinked once, twice. Then he nodded, and Shouyou thought he saw the corners of his lips curl, but he smoothed the smile out before it could fully form, picking up his pen and going back to what he was doing before.  
  
“I’ll meet you at the gates at twelve forty five then.”  
  
Shouyou’s last lesson of the day (and only his second) was Geology, and spent the whole hour tapping his pen against the desk, chin in his palm as he thought about what Tobio’s home might be like. He imagined it big, and cold. Empty. Neat, tidy, kind of posh. Lacking in colour? Maybe. No siblings. Tobio was definitely an only child – or at least, Shouyou saw him as one. The thought of Tobio with a sibling was an uncomfortable one.  
  
His room would be blue. Most of the house would be white.  
  
Would he have any pets? Probably not. And if he did, it would be a small, pampered dog. Shouyou grimaced. That sounded way too fictional. Like the stereotypical rich kid in an anime. It was unlikely that that was what Tobio’s house was really like, but it just _fit_ so much. He doodled a little picture of Tobio’s grumpy face, adding a Santa hat and then snorting at the thought of that guy ever wearing something like that.  
  
Tobio was already by the gate when Shouyou arrived, having gone through the turnstiles. Shouyou swiped his own I.D and exited the college grounds, his presence drawing Tobio’s attention away from his phone. He stuffed it into his pocket, and then adjusted the strap of his bag. He looked nervous, not able to keep as still as he usually was, and  
  
Shouyou’s lips twitched upwards at the corners.  
  
“Ready?” He said, and Tobio nodded, repeating the word right back at him in confirmation. They soon eased back into their usual back and forth, the bus and train rides smoothing out Tobio’s nerves and Shouyou’s slightly jittery excitement somewhat. When they arrived back, the sky was turning grey with the signs of rain, and they picked up their pace, heading down the road quickly as to avoid the suspected downfall. With each step, Shouyou’s curiosity piqued more and more, until they were turning a corner and heading down a street full of semi-detached houses. All images of grand mansions flew out from Shouyou’s mind, and when they walked down a small, overgrown path and up to a green front door, he was overwhelmed with how _normal_ it was.  
  
Tobio got out his key and unlocked the door, and they entered.  
  
The entranceway was small, the stairs immediately to your right and less than a foot ahead, and the kitchen just about three feet away further down. To the left was a door leading into what Shouyou assumed was the living room. Tobio kicked off his shoes, shoving them to the side, and Shouyou did the same.  
  
“Do you want a drink?” Tobio asked, and Shouyou jolted out of his nosing, blinking up at the other. He shook his head.  
  
“Uh, no, I’m fine. I have water in my bag.” Tobio nodded, and then jerked his head towards the stairs.  
  
“Let’s go, then.”  
  
Tobio’s room was not blue. It was beige, which dark brown and cream bedsheets. It was decently sized, but the double bed took up a lot of space, as well as the wardrobe and dresser. He had a desk, laptop resting – closed – on top, and a swivel chair stood in front of it, and old shirt and jeans draped over the back. Tobio grabbed them and stuffed them into a hamper next to his wardrobe, looking slightly embarrassed. Shouyou didn’t know why – as far as he knew, every teenager had a chair for dumping clothes. ‘I’ll tidy them later’, they’d always say, before proceeding to never do so.  
  
Shouyou plopped down onto the edge of the bed, dropping his bag onto the floor where it slumped against the front of the bed. Tobio stuffed his own bag under his desk, before sitting down in the chair and turning his laptop on. Again, Shouyou looked around.  
  
“This wasn’t what I was expecting.” He confessed, and Tobio made a noncommittal noise to show he was listening. “I expected everything to be like, marble and white and sharp. But it’s normal. You’re _normal_.”  
  
“Thanks for being surprised at that.”  
  
Shouyou snorted.  
  
“Can you blame me?” Shouyou flopped backwards, not the type to feel uncomfortable in someone else’s house – even on the first visit. “I mean, you fit the type perfectly.”  
  
“Type?”  
  
“Yeah. You know, the stoic, not good with people, slowly warming up to social interaction type. The one who’s got this like, past of living in a family with rich parents who work all the time and don’t pay you any attention, so you became cold and distant.” Shouyou said with a flurry of hand gestures, and when he looked to Tobio, the boy was leaning on the back of his chair, regarding Shouyou with a somewhat amused gaze accompanied by a raised eyebrow. Shouyou’s hands froze mid gesture.  
  
“And where did you get that ‘type’ from?”  
  
The hands lowered.  
  
“Anime?”  
  
Tobio paused, before scoffing – the closest thing to a laugh Shouyou had heard. He shook his head almost fondly, looking back to his laptop, and Shouyou just watched him before sighing and sitting up. He stood, walking to Tobio’s side and leaning on the desk, butt pressed against the edge. He didn’t say anything, just watching as Tobio got up his college emails, locating the document on which they had compiled all the past debating competition topics. His gaze trailed, over Tobio’s face, and then over the boys’ desk. He picked up a set of papers.  
  
“Is this your creative writing coursework?” He asked. Tobio glanced up at what Shouyou was holding, before looking back to his laptop.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Can I read it?”  
  
“Go ahead.”

Shouyou moved back to the bed, crossing his legs underneath him like a Primary School child and beginning to read. After five minutes, he spoke.  
  
“Point of Information.”  
  
Tobio paused, looking at him in confusion.  
  
Then his face contorted into a frown.  
  
“You can’t a raise a point of information about someone’s coursework, asshole.”  
  
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“It’s your birthday.”  
  
“It’s my birthday.”  
  
“We’ve been out all day, and you’ve only just told me that it’s your birthday.”  
  
The look Tobio gave him was that of a child-like lack of understanding, and Shouyou wanted to scream. Or punch him. Or both. When Tobio opened his mouth to speak, Shouyou was tempted to speak in sync with him, already knowing the word that was about to fall out of his friends mouth.  
  
“And?”  
  
Yep. There it was.  
  
Shouyou scrambled to the end of Tobio’s bed, pausing their game and then discarding his controller. He pressed his hands down into the mattress, leaning over the other boy, who was sitting with his back to the end of the bed, butt on the floor and legs stretched out far in front of him. Tobio furrowed his eyebrows when the game was paused, and looked up, eyes meeting with Shouyou’s, lips set in a disappointed frown that Shouyou had come to see as a pout.  
  
“Why did you pause it?”  
  
“It’s your birthday.” Shouyou repeated his earlier statement. Tobio frowned even more. “Don’t you want to do something?”  
  
“We are doing something.”  
  
“Something that isn’t sitting in your room playing video games.”  
  
The brunet shrugged, putting his controller down and stretching, forcing Shouyou to lean up to avoid being hit in the face.  
  
“I’m fine just doing this.” He said, glancing up at Shouyou once more, with one of those stupidly open and sincere looks he got some time that had Shouyou caught off guard more often than not. He hated those looks – didn’t know how to feel about them, or act, or _feel_ , or _act_ , times ten for both. “This is a pretty good birthday. You’re here.” Another shrug. “I like spending time with you.”  
  
Usually accompanying those open and sincere looks were an open and sincere statement that, once again, had Shouyou complete thrown through about several different loops, plus some triangles, and maybe a hexagon too.  
  
“Oh.” He swallowed, slowly easing up and back into his previous position, legs crossed under him in what Tobio had come to associate as a specifically Shouyou position. “Okay.” He grabbed the remote, a blank, dumbfounded look on his face. “I guess that’s fine then.”  
  
He pressed play, and the game started up again, but his eyes remained on Tobio.  
  
He lost.  
  
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“I don’t think I don’t like you anymore.”  
  
Tobio scoffed, slowing to a stop, feet dragging across the bark chips to break the swings momentum. Shouyou was already stationary, hands gripping the metal chains either side of him, but not using them to propel himself up, only merely to rock himself, not able to remain perfectly still.  
  
“I think I gathered that.” Was Tobio’s response, and Shouyou’s lips quirked up into small smile. He kicked some bark, watching the dark brown bits of wood jump into the air before falling back down once again.  
  
“I think I like you.” A pause. “No, I know I like you.”  
  
“I like you too.”  
  
“I _like_ like you.” Shouyou stressed. This time it was Tobio who paused.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“ _Oh_.”  
  
“ _Yeah_.”  
  
There was silence between them, the only sound present that of the wind through the deadened leaves that still remained on the trees behind them, just behind the fence that sectioned off the playground from the rest of the park. The swings creaked a tad as two bodies that could never stay perfectly still moved on their swings. Shouyou kicked more bark up. And then more, eventually reaching the soil that laid beneath the chips, but above the concrete – a softer fall for young children. That was a weird form of protection in Shouyou’s mind. He’d always preferred scraped knees over splinters.  
  
“So like, a crush?” Tobio’s voice was softer than Shouyou had ever heard it, and it drew his attention, luring his gaze up so that he was watching the other. Tobio was looking down, a delicate frown on his face. “I like you. I like you too. I think it’s like-like. I’m not really sure what like-like feels like. I think I’ve had crushes before? It’s confusing though. But I like spending time with you. And I like debating with you. And I like it when you smile. I can’t smile like that, so I’m kinda envious. I wanna be mad because you’re really annoying. You come up with stupid arguments in our debates, and you eat all my Nutella. But I can’t be mad, because you get tangled in my cats toys, and you don’t get pissed at me when I say something stupid, and you don’t avoid me. And I think ‘I don’t want him to leave’. But I don’t know if that means I like you. I don’t have many friends. You and Kei, and I guess Tadashi but he’s more Kei’s friend. And Kei’s, well, Kei, so ‘friend’ is a really loose term. My mum likes you. She always asks if you’re coming round, and I always get flustered and that confuses me because it’s a simple question. But does that mean I like you?” He paused to breath, which was probably long overdue.  
  
Shouyou had never heard Tobio talk so much outside of their debates.  
  
“Sometimes I think you’re cute. Actually most of the time I think you’re cute. You’re really small, and I wonder what it would be like if I hugged you. But does that mean I like you? I don’t get it. You’re just always there and now it’s so natural and I just–”  
  
“Point of Information.”  
  
Tobio froze.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I asked for a point of information. Will you accept?”  
  
All Shouyou received was a blink, and then a slow, dumb nod. He smiled.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
He reached out and grabbed the chain to his right – the chain attached to Tobio’s swing – and tugged it close, before letting going in one fluid motion, taking hold of the front of Tobio’s shirt instead. At the same time that he leant up, he pulled Tobio down.  
  
Their foreheads bumped.  
  
Shouyou changed their angle, and their lips met. The kiss lasted for only a second, before Shouyou pulled back, eyes fluttering open from where he’d squeezed them shut. His grip on Tobio’s shirt tightened, and he had a smirk pulling up the corners of his mouth.  
  
“Yes, idiot, I think that means you like me.”  
  
A pause.  
  
“Oh.” Tobio smiled, and Shouyou’s breath caught. “Then I like you.”  
  
The only reply he received was another tug on his shirt, and a firm, almost frustrated kiss to his lips. Tobio reached out and held onto the chains of Shouyou’s swing, pulling him closer, and this time, he kissed back.  
  
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End file.
